


And Suddenly His Winter Began to Pass

by EmynIthilien



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen, Post ADWD, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-10 23:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmynIthilien/pseuds/EmynIthilien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Davos delivers Rickon to the Wall after succeeding in his mission to Skagos, and Jon gets to meet the smuggler that Stannis Baratheon trusts above all others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Suddenly His Winter Began to Pass

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a reference to a line describing Éowyn in _Lord of the Rings_ , “And suddenly her winter passed.” Faramir says that of her when she is finally happy again after Sauron and her personal demons have been defeated. I’d like to think that being reunited with one of his siblings would certainly warm Jon’s demeanor.
> 
> This was also written for the third round of the got_exchange comment fic meme, found here: http://gotexchange-mod.livejournal.com/1329.html?view=567089#t567089

Lord Commander Jon Snow was breaking his fast in his chambers in the Lord Commander’s tower at Castle Black when Clydas arrived with letters addressed to him. After his death and rebirth through the power of the old gods and the weirwoods, Jon had met no resistance from his brothers when he gave out his commands—which recently included restoring the interior woodwork of the Lord Commander’s tower.

Jon idly traced a blood red scar on his throat, where one of his assassins had cut him. He had four such marks on his body, each as red as the next, the same red as the weirwood sap Jon had found himself drenched in when he had awoken alive in the weirwood grove beyond the Wall.

“Business as usual, Clydas?”

“Not quite, my lord, I had a pair of ravens wake me before sunrise,” responded Clydas as he placed two letters on the desk in front of Jon. One letter was sealed with black wax, so it was from either Eastwatch or the Shadow Tower. But the other letter was what caught Jon’s attention and made his eyes widen. This one had two seals on it—one in gold wax with Stannis’ sigil of a stag swallowed by a fiery heart, and the other in black wax with the shape of a hand stamped onto it.

Jon’s heart started hammering. The gold sealed letter _had_ to be from Stannis, and it must be bringing news of what truly befell the king and his army at Winterfell. But why the black hand seal? Was Stannis’ Hand with him again? The last he had heard of Lord Davos, he had been travelling south to treat with Lord Manderly in White Harbor. 

_Lord Davos won White Harbor for Stannis, and Manderly helped Stannis take Winterfell from the Boltons, that must be it!_ Thought Jon, as he quickly broke the stag and hand seals. He gasped when he read the letter, though not for the reason he originally thought. The handwriting was like that of a child being taught his first letters by a maester, but the words were clear and to the point:

_ Lord Commander Jon Snow, _

_ My name is Ser Davos Seaworth, lord and Hand to King Stannis. _

_ I recently returned from a mission to the island of Skagos, reasons of which I will tell you in confidence. On Skagos, I found your younger brother, Rickon, and his black direwolf, who he names “Shaggy.” I request and audience with you, my Lord, at your earliest convenience, to discuss King Stannis’ current affairs at the Wall. As well, your brother is most excited to see you again, and your wolf. _

_ Davos Seaworth _

Cotter Pyke had rather similar things to say, though his tone was much angrier, as usual:

_Today, a small, sleek ship bearing a white flag made port. Aboard were a few men bearing the merman of Lord Manderly of White Harbor along with Lord Davos Seaworth, King Stannis’ Hand with the shortened fingers. Also with them was a red haired boy that Lord Davos claims is Rickon Stark. He has a big black direwolf that follows him everywhere and growls constantly, and the boy can’t stop talking about wanting to see_ your _white beast, which is why I see no reason to doubt that the boy is your brother, though he doesn’t look a thing like you. Lord Davos requests an escort to Castle Black so he may speak with you, which I will grant him upon your reply._

_ The Wall will never turn away guests in need, though please be reminded that the Night’s Watch isn’t the thrall of Stannis Baratheon. No matter how much provocation you personally receive, your duty is to the Wall, Lord Snow. Remember what I told you upon your being named Lord Commander: If you muck this up, I will rip out your liver and eat it raw with onions. _

Rickon. It _had_ to be Rickon, for who living would know what his direwolf had been named? And what color it was? He felt quite insulted by Cotter Pyke’s last words, and he had the urge to throw something at the man. _Though I do deserve them. Marching on Winterfell wasn’t my brightest idea…_

After being restored as Lord Commander, Jon had replied to Ramsay Snow’s raven. Though he dearly would have loved to have written something like, “Go to hell, _I’m_ more the Lord of Winterfell than you, bastard,” he forced himself to make his response cordial, asking for more proof about all of the incidents that supposedly occurred. Jon had yet to receive a raven in return from Winterfell. Which was hopefully a good sign.

“My lord?” asked Clydas. Jon had forgotten that he was in the room, so absorbed he was in reading the letters and thinking of their implications. “Would you like to send a reply back to Eastwatch?”

Jon penned a hasty reply back to Cotter Pyke, instructing him to send Lord Davos and Rickon to Castle Black immediately with a strong escort of black brothers, including Pyp and Grenn. _Gods know I could do with more friends around._ He sealed the letter, handed it to Clydas, and sat back in his chair.

And waited.

~

Davos Seaworth was riding on a horse along the path that connected Eastwatch by the Sea to Castle Black. The Wall was on his right, and just _looking_ at the thing made him feel colder than he already was.

“Shaggy can’t wait to see Ghost! He’s been so lonely without _anyone_ to play with. I wonder if he’ll find Summer and Nymeria and Grey Wind, that would be good too.”

Young Rickon Stark was seated before Davos on his horse, with his large black direwolf padding next to them. The wolf still scared Davos, for its temperament was as wild as the wind in a storm, much like his young master. He wasn’t quite looking forward to meeting _another_ direwolf, and he prayed to the Seven that Lord Snow’s direwolf wasn’t like its brother

Like most of the events in his life since smuggling those onions to Stannis at Storm’s End, Davos could never have fathomed that he’d be where he was now. His time in the Wolf’s Den at White Harbor had been misery, not knowing if he was going to be beheaded in an hour or be allowed to live another day. The journey to Skagos had been uneventful, though after some near death moments with the Skagosi, he had successfully found Rickon Stark and his direwolf. Of course, since good fortune never seemed to last for him lately, storms and dead things in the water (Davos had suppressed _that_ memory, though the Lord Commander would have to be told) had forced his ship to take shelter at Eastwatch instead of making straight for White Harbor. That probably was for the best, though, for Rickon could see his brother again and Davos could learn what his king had been doing in the meantime. He’d have to get back to White Harbor eventually, to keep his promises to Lord Manderly and King Stannis.

Rickon kept asking for Osha, the wildling woman that Davos had seen pulled overboard by those dead things in the water, his brother Robb and Robb’s wolf Grey Wind, and his father and mother as well. As many times as the boy had been told that those people were dead, he still kept expecting them. Davos didn’t have the heart to keep repeating himself. _Winter has sure come, that’s for certain; for the Starks most of all._

Davos spied black towers in the distance. _Thank the gods; I can finally warm up again._ As his escort rode to Castle Black’s central courtyard, he realized that he had been expected down to the exact minute. At the base of one of the towers stood a grave young man with a large white direwolf by his side and a host of black brothers around him. His features seemed frozen, and the wind was blowing his dark brown hair into his long face. The wolf didn’t make a sound, and there was something unsettling in its red eyes.

Davos dismounted from his horse and gently lifted Rickon down after him, pushing back the hood of the boy’s cloak so his auburn hair and blue eyes could be seen. He met Jon Snow’s hard grey eyes with his, and bowed low.

“Lord Commander Snow.”

There was dead silence in the courtyard, and then everything started happening at once.

The white direwolf leapt from his master’s side, and suddenly there was a black and white howling blur rolling through the snow as both Shaggy and Ghost greeted each other. All the men backed away from the wolves.

Rickon started walking towards his brother, who was presently kneeling with his eyes as big as saucers.

“Father?” said Rickon tentatively.

Something in Davos broke at hearing that. To Rickon’s credit, Lord Snow did look extraordinarily like Ned Stark when Davos had last seen him during the Greyjoy Rebellion.

“No, not father,” said Jon, his voice breaking as he shook his head. “It’s me, your brother Jon, _Jon_ , don’t you remember me? Ghost is my wolf. Shaggydog seems to know him.”

Rickon bit his lip, and kept looking from Jon to the wolves. “Do you know where the others are, where Summer and Nymeria are? I saw Lady’s bones brought back to Winterfell, and I think Shaggy dreamed that Grey Wind is dead, too. But that can’t be true!”

Jon closed his eyes like he wanted to keep from crying. He then picked Rickon up and hugged him tightly, whispering things that Davos couldn’t pick up. The wolves ran over to them, and Shaggy stood up on his hind legs and placed his front paws on Jon’s shoulders, giving both his master and the Lord Commander big licks on their faces. This caused Jon to burst out in laughter, and he lifted Rickon to his shoulders and spun him around.

“Shaggy remembers you!” exclaimed Rickon. “I’m glad you’re not dead, Jon.”

“So am I, little brother, so am I.”

When Jon stopped spinning, he seemed to remember where he was and all of the people around him. He put Rickon back on the ground—who was promptly given a big lick by Ghost—and walked over to where Davos was standing.

“Lord Davos,” he said, attempting to school his features back to that of the stern lord that greeted him. Davos gave the Lord Commander a small smile, and before he could do or say anything else, Jon threw his arms around him in a fierce hug, the likes of which Davos hadn’t received since he had last said goodbye to his wife and two small sons on Cape Wrath.

“Thank you,” Jon whispered in his ear. “For my brother.”

“It’s the least I could do for you, Jon,” said Davos softly, as he returned the embrace.

Gone was the grave lord who seemed to be carved of ice, and in his place was a young man who was on fire with the happiness of being reunited with his brother again. It was a wonderful sight to see, and Davos thought that all the time spent in Manderly’s dungeons was worth it just for this.

~

When Rickon was happily in the kitchens eating a hot meal with two wolves as his guards (among others), Jon met with Lord Davos in his solar. He had a feeling that this would be a long meeting, for even with the joy of Rickon being alive and safely returned to him, the political ramifications of having a trueborn _male_ Stark heir still alive would be far reaching. No doubt that the northern lords would rally to Stannis’ cause if they got wind of the fact, or else the northern lords would ally with Stannis long enough to get rid of the Greyjoys and Boltons and then crown Rickon King of the North. Of course, how Stannis and the lords would act was largely dependent on how much of the bastard Ramsay Snow’s letter was true…

Jon was rather embarrassed at how he had initially conducted himself in front of Lord Davos, and he hoped that he could still act as much of the part of the lord as he had during his dealings with King Stannis. He could not afford to act like a boy, as much as he might have wanted to. _I killed the boy, right? Right?_ Though if Arya had been returned to him, he would have probably kissed the person who brought her back, propriety be damned.

_ Let’s see how much like King Stannis his Hand is. Though if I had tried to hug the king like that, I’d have probably found myself yelled at or unapologetically pushed away… _

“Lord Commander Snow, it is a pleasure to meet you,” began Davos. “I’d have guessed who you were right away even if you didn’t have your wolf with you, for you look ever so like Lord Eddard Stark.”

“You met my father?”

“A very long time ago. Once, at King Robert’s wedding to Queen Cersei, and again during the Greyjoy Rebellion when I captained one of now King Stannis’ ships. Your father was always talking about how much he loved his family and how proud he was of his young children…

Davos paused.

“Including a little boy who was growing up to look exactly like him.”

Jon had to fight a wistful look from appearing on his face. _This is not how this meeting was supposed to start. You need to be_ serious, _Jon, and in control_. _I will not let my guard down, not even in front of this seemingly kind man._

“Did he really say that? Or are you just trying to be kind to me?”

“I never tell a man anything less than the truth, a trait of mine that has earned me King Stannis’ favor—and also his ire on many an occasion,” said Davos levelly, eyes meeting his.

Jon met the man’s eyes right back. It took a certain courage to tell the truth, and even more courage to risk the anger of Stannis Baratheon. _This man must have done something extraordinary to earn and_ keep _Stannis’ trust for so many years, and is there anyone else that Stannis trusts at all?_

“My Lord?” asked Davos.

And Jon decided to put caution to the wind and trust Davos Seaworth.

~

After arriving at Castle Black, Davos had also been met by his son Devan, who had also come running up to him and hugged him much like Lord Snow had. Devan had been mumbling incoherently about Lady Melisandre’s vision of a head and a hand with shortened fingers mounted on the walls of White Harbor, as Davos reassuringly patted him on the head. When Davos asked his son why he wasn’t with the king, Devan told him how Melisandre wished for him to stay with her. Was that to be taken as a good sign or bad?

To his surprise, Jon reminded Davos of Stannis when he had first met him during the Storm’s End siege. Both young men were too grave and serious for one of their years, and both had met with enough tragedy in their lives to have a rather bitter and cynical view of the world.

“Where were the queen and Lady Melisandre when I arrived here, if I may ask?” Davos first asked the Lord Commander.

“Indoors, no doubt. I felt no need of announcing my brother’s arrival to them, as it didn’t concern them. By now they’ve likely hear all about it. Are you in any hurry to meet them?”

_No more than I am to be back in Manderly’s dungeons._ “No my lord, my duties to the queen and Lady Melisandre can wait.”

Jon raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.

“This is long overdue, but I owe my life to you, Lord Davos.”

Davos was puzzled.

“I need to thank you for convincing King Stannis to turn north and help the Night’s Watch during it’s time of need. If the wildlings hadn’t killed me, my own brothers would likely have done me the favor.”

“Forgive me, my lord, but I heard at Eastwatch that your black brothers stabbed you to death, and that the old gods brought you back.” When Davos had landed at Eastwatch and expressed his wish to Cotter Pyke to speak with Lord Commander Snow, Pyke had informed him that it was his good fortune that the “reckless idiot Lord Commander” had risen from the dead after even more “mindless idiot brothers” had assassinated him. Pyke would tell Davos no more, saying he could ask Lord Snow himself, which Davos was rather hesitant to do now that the young man was sitting in front of him.

Jon absently traced a blood red scar on his neck, a scar that was as red as the eyes of his direwolf. 

“Well,” he slowly responded, “That was more of my own fault, really. I don’t know how or _why_ I’m still alive, though I like to think it’s so I can accomplish some greater purpose. Lady Melisandre has seemed rather…lost, recently, ever since I was brought back to life without any seeming help of R’hllor.”

“I guess she’s finally been forced to reckon with the fact that there are greater powers than her or her red god in this world. A good thing, if you ask me.”

“So you’re not a fervent follower of Lady Melisandre or her red god?”

_Careful now, Davos. You don’t know what Jon thinks of Melisandre. She could have him under her spell like she does Stannis._ “She has power, no doubt, but she and I have disagreed on a number of matters. I don’t believe in the need to burn people alive or to burn the effigies of other gods that many people have much faith in.”

Jon raised his eyebrows, and Davos could tell that he was fighting a smile. “So do I,” he concurred, and then said, “You’re not at all who I expected you would be.”

“Oh? And what kind of man were you expecting? A fierce looking smuggler who wears the bones of his enemies around his neck?”

Jon blanched. “No, my Lord, nothing of the sort. Though to hear the queen’s men speak, you’re a hardened criminal who’s been biding his time all these long years to take advantage of the king when his guard’s down and steal everything his holds dear.”

Davos grimaced. _Well, it’s not like I expected them to think anything better of me. They wouldn’t dare say such things if King Stannis was around._

“In all honesty,” continued Jon, “I imagined you to be another version of King Stannis, for I as well as anyone know that a man’s past doesn’t dictate their future if they decide to change it for the better. When the king would talk of you—never without the utmost respect—I always pictured a tall, stern man who never smiled and who would threaten to decapitate me if I didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear.”

Davos laughed at that. The lad had certainly gotten the measure of King Stannis, though he didn’t seem to have too much ill will for the king, if Davos had judged correctly.

“You should give the king more credit than that! He does have his reasons for acting the way he does.”

“I know, I _do_. I just never thought that the Hand of the king would remind me of the Hand of the last true king; someone who takes honor and duty seriously, holds the truth above everything else, show great affection for his family—and knows how to laugh.”

Davos didn’t know quite how to respond to that.

~

Davos’ conversation with the Lord Commander stretched long into the evening, and the fire had been reduced to embers. There was much that he had missed during his time in Manderly’s dungeons and his journey to Skagos, mainly Stannis’ victory at Deepwood Motte and his march on Winterfell. The king had originally wanted to raze the Dreadfort, but Jon had convinced him to march in the other direction to win more men and support from the northern lords. Jon also informed Davos of the ominous raven from Ramsay Snow, and Davos felt his heart leap into his throat, even more so when Jon didn’t seem overly concerned.

“Lord Commander, aren’t you _worried_ about the letter?”

“And believe the word of the bastard son of the man who betrayed my brother? There is truth in the letter, how I know I won’t divulge to you, but I believe that if Stannis Baratheon and his army were truly destroyed, the Wall would have heard more news other than the ravings of a madman. I _died_ because of that infernal letter, and I refuse to discuss it anymore until I receive news from a more reliable source.”

Jon’s eyes looked like pure steel and his posture had become incredibly tense. If Jon’s direwolf had been with him, Davos suspected that the beast would be growling at him. Davos knew better than to say anything more, and just let the Lord Commander continue to speak.

“The Night’s Watch takes no part in the conflicts of the realm, as we’ve sworn for thousands of years. But we can’t sit back and do _nothing_ , for we simply don’t have the numbers to defend the Wall without outside help. Which is why I let the wildlings pass through the Wall and settle themselves on the Gift and in the Wall’s castles, which King Stannis was in agreement with.”

Davos nodded.

“Additionally, many of my own lords and fellow brothers of the Night’s Watch have accused me of favoring King Stannis and his cause when I should have remained neutral, despite him being the only king who responded to the Night’s Watch’s plea for aid. However, if I had been indifferent to King Stannis’ cause, I might as well have declared for the Boltons then and there. What would you have done, if you were in my stead and had taken my vows? What would the Hand who speaks with the king’s voice say?”

_He’s testing me,_ though Davos, _Testing to see if I can think in the best interests of the realm as well as the best interests of King Stannis._

Jon’s arms were crossed and he was leaning back in his chair, staring intently at him.

“Stannis was the only king who responded to the Night’s Watch request, as you said, my Lord,” began Davos, “Something that even your brother King Robb didn’t do—though in his defense, he was much farther away from the Wall and didn’t have the ships to quickly get his men there. If I were you, I would take this action as proof that King Stannis means not only to sit the Iron Throne, but to protect the entire realm from the foes that plague it, from inside and beyond. By helping in his fight now, you help ensure that he and his armies will be strong enough to help the Wall if they can succeed in saving the North from the Boltons and the Greyjoys, for as you said, the Wall simply doesn’t have the numbers of fighting men it needs. Once King Stannis can bring peace to the North, then he can turn his attention back to the Wall.”

“Oh? And why wouldn’t he turn his attention to King’s Landing, once he has the North? The Ironborn are still at large, raiding down by the Arbor from what my black brother Sam writes from Oldtown. They could still wreak havoc.”

Lord Snow had valid points. Would Stannis be like Robb Stark and turn his focus South, thinking the North safe from his enemies? Would he turn away from the threat of the Others, even though they hadn’t appeared in force yet? _Stannis will do whatever he believes it is his duty to do first. Aye, I can’t say whether or not he will head North if he is victorious at Winterfell and wins White Harbor to him, but if he can be convinced of his duty and the greater justice of being at the Wall, then maybe he would._

“You speak true, my lord,” started Davos.

“And,” cut in Jon, “What if Dragonstone and Storm’s End are taken? Would his Grace drop everything and rush to protect his home?”

_ If Stannis hadn’t cared about taking Storm’s End after Renly’s death, he might have won the Battle of Blackwater before Tywin Lannister and the Tyrells could organize their forces. Not to mention the horrible chain across the bay might not have been completed.  _

“His Grace expects that Dragonstone might fall soon, so the island is not a priority for him. He does hold Storm’s End dear, but it’s mostly a matter of pride because he always felt that the castle should have been his by rights ever since Robert was crowned.”

Lord Snow was still staring at him, his face a mask.

“Ultimately, though,” continued Davos, “I believe that King Stannis will put matters of pride and glory behind his duty to make sure the realm is safe from the most dangerous threat. There’s no use in conquering King’s Landing if the Wall falls, and even though that’s a bitter truth to hear, he _will_ listen. If I were you, I would never regret my decision to aid King Stannis, for he’s the king with the best chance of helping and continuing to help the Night’s Watch.”

“Things are looking better for King Stannis’ cause, granted that he’s still alive,” said Jon, “And did you hear that the Iron Bank of Braavos is willing to loan him the money to defeat the Lannisters, since the Lannisters ironically forgot to pay their debts? We had a banker pass by the Wall to bring the bank’s terms to the king.”

The Iron Bank backing Stannis? That was certainly news to Davos.

“I thank you for sharing your views, Lord Davos, for I trust you can see why I’ve acted the way I’ve done for the best interest of the Night’s Watch, rather than solely from wanting revenge at those who killed my family.”

“I don’t think anyone would fault you for wishing vengeance for your family, and for the North.”

“No? Oh but they do, Bowen Marsh, Cotter Pyke, and countless other of my Night’s Watch brothers who know about the politics in the realm,” confessed Jon. “It’s such a double standard; I got elected to be Lord Commander in part because I was a Stark, well, a Stark bastard, yet _because_ of that I’m more likely to take sides! And with Rickon back, there will be talk of how I’m using him as a tool to restore the Starks, no matter _what_ action I take! I’ve certainly learned my lessons and am not about to abandon the Wall for anything, so why can’t my men see the situation how you did?”

In that moment Jon reminded Davos very much of Stannis, how Stannis would bitterly rant about Robert’s treatment of him, being denied Storm’s End, Renly’s indifference…Fortune hadn’t smiled on either man, yet both still kept to their positions and did their duties. Davos wished he could take the young Lord Commander by his shoulders and reassure him—perhaps hug him like he had earlier in the day—that no man could have done things any better than him, that without a Lord Commander that understood the North, the wildlings, and the true threat that lay beyond the Wall, the Night’s Watch would surely be lost. But that wasn’t his place, much like it wasn’t his place to comfort Stannis, however much Stannis needed it.

Jon gave a long sigh. “Would you join me for some mulled wine in the kitchens, my lord? Our business doesn’t all need to be solved right this second. And as a Southerner, you probably need some more warming up!”

That sounded like a good prospect to Davos. “So they serve wine at Castle Black, not just lemon and salt water?”

The young man was puzzled for a moment, but when he got Davos’ reference, his mouth spread in a rather wolfish grin.

“I think you complement King Stannis, Lord Hand.”

_Lord Hand._ Davos still couldn’t believe it. “Oh, in what ways?”

“In all the time he spent here at the Wall, I can’t recall if I’ve truly seen the king smile. But I bet he does around you, Davos. And I’m glad he has someone else who’s willing to tell him some hard truths.”

Davos was rather touched, and he couldn’t remember the last time someone had complimented him like that. True, Stannis would at times express his appreciation toward him, but often in a backhanded way that took getting used to.

“My thanks…Jon. Now let’s see what mischief your brother and those direwolves have gotten up to now,” returned Davos with a smile.

  



End file.
